the mention of his name.
‘Did he say what he wanted?’ Claire tried to keep her voice casual.
‘Nah. Just said he’d catch up with you tomorrow.’
‘Did he leave a number?’ Claire had deliberately deleted his mobile number from her phone when she had started to see Barry. And now she had a new phone, so Steve couldn’t ring that. For all she knew he might still be at the same address, but knowing Steve, he was likely to have moved on again.
‘Nah. Just said he’d be here by lunchtime.’
‘Wha-a-at????’ Claire’s knees went weak and trembly. She had to hold onto the pillar beside Kerry’s desk. ‘He’s coming here? When? How?’ she croaked.
‘That’s what the man said,’ said Kerry looking up for a moment from the all-important task of filing her nails. ‘And lunchtime, is lunchtime. So I dunno, I expect he’ll be here after 12.’
Claire went upstairs to her office, and sank down at her desk, in a total state of shock. Steve coming here? What on earth was she going to say to him?
Claire spent a nervous morning twitching every time the phone rang in case it was Kerry to say that Steve was there. She should refuse to see him. That was the most sensible course of action. Except … it would be good to see him again. And she was curious as to why he had come.
She waited till 1pm, but he still hadn’t turned up, so in the end she went out to get herself a sandwich. He probably wasn’t coming. It must be a wind-up. She was just turning back down the street where her office was, when she heard the sound of a revving engine, and a blur of silver and black roared past her, heading for her office entrance. She swallowed hard. Typical of Steve to want to make a grand entrance.
He mounted the pavement in the square in front of her office, and sat legs astride his bike, the engine still throbbing, a vision of masculine beauty in his black leathers. He took off his helmet as she arrived, and shook out his tousled mane of black curls. He gave her his wonky grin, and his green eyes sparkled with delight as she approached him. Claire was having difficulty breathing. She had forgotten he could have that effect on her. After Barry’s rather pretty boy looks it was quite a shock to reencounter the rugged sensuality that was Steve.
‘Hi,’ she squeaked, her mouth dry, and her heart hammering so loud she felt sure the whole world could hear it. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see you of course,’ said Steve, switching off the engine, and climbing off the bike.
‘You do know I’m getting married in three weeks, don’t you?’ Claire felt like a child in a sweet shop, so wanting to touch, and knowing she shouldn’t.
‘Yes, I know. I ran into your mum in town.We went for a coffee in Costa. She told me.’
‘Really?’ Claire was amazed. All the time she’d been going out with Steve, she’d got the impression they thought she could do better. How come her mum was suddenly having coffee with him?
‘She’s worried about you, Claire,’ he said. ‘Both your parents are. They don’t think this Barry is right for you.’
Claire was speechless. How dare her parents interfere in her life?
‘It’s none of their damned business,’ said Claire. ‘Or yours for that matter.’
‘Isn’t it?’ he looked at her. Such a look, it made her feel he was staring into her soul.
‘Don’t marry Barry,’ he said. ‘Marry me.’
Claire swallowed hard. Here he was asking her the one question she had always wanted him to. Now. When it was too late.
‘Steve, I can’t. It’s over. I love Barry, and I’m marrying him. I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘Not even if I proved to you that Barry is wrong for you, and that we should be together?’
‘How are you going to prove that?’ said Claire. ‘Besides. He isn’t wrong for me. You are. You’ve never committed yourself to anyone or anything in your life. Why should I believe you?’
‘Because I’ve changed,’ said Steve. ‘You were right. I was going nowhere in my life. But I’ve just enrolled on a college course in ICT. But before I do that, I still want to travel. My offer still stands.’
‘It’s too late,’ said Claire. ‘I am going to marry Barry. Now if you’ll excuse
me, I have work to do.’
Still shaking, she brushed past Steve to go into the building. He caught her arm, and pulled her to him, and suddenly she was drowning in his arms, and they were kissing as if they had never kissed before.
‘No,’ Claire pushed him back. ‘Sorry, Steve, this is just wrong. I have to go.’
‘Now tell me we’re wrong for each other.’ She couldn’t bear to see the pleading in his eyes.
‘We’re wrong for each other,’ Claire said, and stumbled inside.
‘I’m not going to give up,’ Steve said. ‘I love you.’
‘Too late,’ said Claire. ‘I’m in love with someone else.’
*
Three weeks later, Claire stood in the bright July sunshine, dressed in the Donna Karan dress she had chosen so many weeks ago. She posed for pictures with her five adorable little bridesmaids (all nieces of Barry), and Mel, her only grown-up one. And she smiled and smiled, as she tried to blot out the image in her mind of Steve in his leathers, roaring up on his motorbike to whisk her away. He had rung her every day since their meeting, but she had refused to take his calls. And several times he had waited for her after work, until she had got really angry and told him to sod off in no uncertain terms. It seemed he had taken her at her word, as she hadn’t seen him for over a week now. She didn’t know if she was glad or sorry.
Because however much she told herself that this was what she had always dreamed of, and that it was going to be the most perfect day of her life, she couldn’t help the niggling feeling in the back of her mind that something was missing. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she had hardly seen Barry in the weeks leading up to the wedding – he blamed work commitments as a reason for not getting more involved in the preparations – or the fact that she was beginning to feel a stranger at her own party. She felt like she was on a rollercoaster that she couldn’t get off. She would have confided in Mel about it, but until today, she hadn’t seen Mel for weeks. Mel, too, seemed to always be busy when Claire wanted to talk.
Claire shook her head in a determined fashion, as the photographer pointed her and Mel towards the church door for one last photo. She was being daft. All brides were nervous. It was only natural.
‘You look green,’ said Mel digging her in the ribs. ‘You’re not having second thoughts are you?’
‘Course not,’ said Claire, more forcefully then she felt.
‘It’s not too late to change your mind,’ said Mel. ‘But don’t mind me.’
‘Shut up,’ said Claire, grimacing
